


Great Expectations

by Korvesta_Kaakkoon



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, The Flooded District Mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23663974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Korvesta_Kaakkoon/pseuds/Korvesta_Kaakkoon
Summary: Daud had known for a while that retribution was coming.He welcomed it with open arms. Corvo deserved to take his revenge on the assassin who'd killed the Empress, and Daud would gladly meet his sword with his own.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	Great Expectations

Daud had known for a while that retribution was coming. 

It was hard to live in a world so unforgiving and cruel and believe in karma, but he’d known not even a man like him could live forever unpunished, not with the weight of the things he’d done on his shoulders. 

Dunwall was the kind of a city where shitty people survived. The worse you acted, the better chances you had to see the next day. And Daud had been the shittiest of them all. 

He’d known for a while it’d be coming to an end. Billie had told him there were many ports around the Isles where a man could just disappear. But he knew better. 

He wouldn’t live long enough to see that. 

He stood in his office, his Whalers moving around him. They could feel it too, he was sure. The tension. They’d all heard stories of the Masked Felon. 

Like a ghost, that one. More of a rumor than anything solid. Some civilians had told tales of him. Never guards. Guards would just end up waking up hours after the fact, with no sign of the Felon himself. 

And now Corvo lay in an oil refinement vat, not a fifteen-minute walk from here. 

It was a difficult thing, change. Daud had lived a long life for someone in his profession. If he was being fully honest with himself, he’d thought he was going to be dead long before this. If not by the hand of a guard or a lucky nobleman, then by one of his own Whalers. It would’ve been a good show of strength to usurp him. Take his place and plunge a knife to his heart. He didn’t resent Billie for trying. 

That was what he told himself, at night, when the mere thought of her made the pain in his chest flare. 

Change wasn’t easy. Not after everything. And even if Daud could’ve changed, it wouldn’t have erased the things he’d done. 

He’d though he could at least make amends. 

He knew for a fact that a cage like that wouldn’t hold a man like Corvo for long. Even without the Outsider’s Mark on his hand he would’ve been able to break free with little effort. He’d be out of the makeshift prison soon enough. 

There would be only one way out of the Flooded District. 

He’d be coming for Daud. And Daud would get what he deserved. 

He could feel the worried glare Thomas was throwing his way. It drilled into Daud’s neck even through the Whaler’s mask. Thomas had been even more vigilant about his duties after Billie. At first, Daud had assumed he was moving to claim Billie’s place as his second. It would’ve been his right. The others wouldn’t fight him for it. 

Now Daud was worried the reasons might’ve been more personal. 

Twice now Thomas has suggested he should rest. Fresh food had appeared on Daud’s desk when he wasn’t looking. 

The boy was showing too much through his actions. 

It was… frustrating. 

All of it was. 

Corvo. Thomas. 

Billie. 

…

The Empress. 

The frustration had been mounting ever since Daud had decided there needed to be a change. 

He knew he couldn’t keep living like he had so far. His choices and the Outsider’s quirks had brought him to this moment and he despised them both for it. Daud knew he needed to change. But after living on the edge of a knife for so long, it wasn’t easy. 

He’d filled his life with cutthroats. He’d raised the Whalers up to be like him. And when the ground had disappeared from under him, he’d had nothing to hold onto. 

It was distressing to find that some of them still did care for him. 

Even when he couldn’t be the man he wanted to be. 

Even though he didn’t _know_ what kind of a man he should be. 

Daud had decided to change. By the time the Outsider had appeared to him with a name, he’d already made up his mind on it. The Rothwild case had been the first one he’d intentionally attempted to approach nonlethally. 

It… hadn’t gone well. 

Arnold Timsh had been a little easier. 

But no amount of attempted penitence was going to remove the stains of the past from Daud’s soul. 

He’d assumed the reason his attempts had failed was because it was difficult. No sane man would survive attempting it. Living the lifestyle the Whalers did was impossible without dirtying one’s hands. Attempting to deal with the contracts without killing anyone was impossible. It just couldn’t be done. 

Then in came the Masked Felon, sweeping over Dunwall and getting so much done, without a single drop of blood spilled. 

A man in a mask appeared as if out of nowhere, and when he left, the corrupt nobility was left in shatters worse than Daud had ever managed by doing their petty killings for them. 

And all of it without killing a soul, allegedly. 

It was hard to believe. People had disappeared, yes. The Pendletons. One of the Boyle sisters. But there were no reported deaths. 

Daud had been interested. That much he could admit. The bounty on the Felon’s head had been even more interesting. 

But to find that it was Corvo Attano behind the mask. 

It was frustrating. To see how _easy_ it was for the man. 

Corvo had every right to be bitter. To seek revenge. To bathe in the blood of the nobility that had brought about the end of the Empire he’d sought to protect. Who’d schemed to kill the woman he’d clearly loved. 

And yet. 

Even the Lord Regent had walked out alive. In shackles and his ploys ruined, but alive and unharmed, unaware who it was that had brought about his end. Daud doubted Burrows would live much longer. He’d be executed for his crimes, no doubt. But Corvo had brought him down legitimately. The people of Dunwall knew who was to blame and the man would answer for his crimes. 

Burrows’ end would be far kinder than what Daud would’ve given him. 

Would Corvo allow the same mercy for the man, who’d held the knife? Who’d actually done the deed? Would he hold the same righteous honor when facing the Knife of Dunwall?

Daud doubted that very much. 

And he had no plans on letting him leave without his revenge. 

Daud had ruined his life. In more ways than one. Corvo could never go back to the man he’d been before. And the least Daud could do was give him the chance to seek retribution. He’d already paid back to young Emily by dealing with Delilah behind their backs. To Corvo, he’d give his life to do whatever he wished with. The decision would be in his hands. 

Thomas’ stare was heavy even through the mask. Daud lit a cigarette and turned so he couldn’t see it fully. 

Daud didn’t particularly want to die. He just expected to and he wasn’t going to fight it. Yes, he’d give the Lord Protector a fight for his life. He owed the man that much. He wouldn’t be like the limp nobles, who would’ve died with a single swipe of a knife anyway. No, that wouldn’t satisfy Corvo. No, he would give his all and, in the end, he wouldn’t fight the judgement Corvo would give him. 

Daud drew his back straight. 

A Whaler materialized outside the office and rushed in. 

”Master!” he cried out. 

Daud turned to look at him. ”What is it?”

”Corvo’s vanished from confinement, from the whole area, and the men on duty swear they saw absolutely nothing!” he explained, hands waving about with clear agitation. For a Whaler in Master’s robes, he was showing too much anxiety. Daud was sure he was thinking back to the time when the Overseers had attacked. 

He found it doubtful that Corvo would kill his Whalers the same way the Overseers had done, though. 

“It sounds impossible,” the Whaler continued, his voice trembling just a little. “I know. The Greaves Refinery restarted. What do you make of it?”

Daud turned to face him fully. Thomas was watching the Whaler as well, hands behind his back. 

“That he knows your work better than you do,” Daud said. For the man to sneak past his trained assassins. The bodyguard was more capable than he’d given him credit for. “Deal with the sentries as you see fit. As for Corvo, I suspect that in time he will come to me here.” He gave a look at the key hanging from the hook from one of the desks. “He’ll have to.”

The Whaler saluted and disappeared. 

Thomas’ stare was penetrating. Daud pretended like he didn’t see it. 

He’d known killing the Empress was going to be different. Assassinating the head of the Empire should’ve been the crowning jewel in the accomplishments of the Whalers. He hadn’t expected the fallout to be quite this bad. When they’d gotten back to Rudshore, he’d washed his hands from her blood and went to bed, like he always did. 

The eyes of the bodyguard had shaken him. He often had nightmares of the targets he’d killed. But the look in those eyes…

The nobles he killed, they were vile. They hated each other for petty reasons and paid good money to get rid of their competition. They rarely cried after lost relatives. 

But the bodyguard had looked like it’d been _his_ life that’d been taken from him, not the Empress’. 

What had followed her death had cemented his misery. 

Dunwall had never been perfect. 

But losing the Empress had ripped it all open. 

The city was dying. Daud had dealt the killing blow. 

And the blood of the Empress would never wash off fully. 

”Master,” Thomas said. ”Maybe you should – ”

Daud gave him a sharp look and his voice petered out. Thomas squared his shoulders and tilted his head back. 

Daud turned to face the direction of the courtyard. The sentries who’d been making rounds there moments earlier were nowhere to be seen. 

A humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. 

This was the _only_ way through. The quarantine was absolute and if Corvo wanted to get out of the Flooded District, he’d need a key. 

And Daud held that key. 

He had nothing but time. If Corvo wanted to take out his Whalers first, then Daud would allow him. They shouldn’t be shoving their noses into this anyway. This was between him and Corvo. Let the man deal with the sentries first. They wouldn’t be interrupted that way. 

None of them were saints here. But Daud trusted Corvo wouldn’t kill them. He wasn’t that kind of a man. He was here for _Daud_. 

Thomas didn’t say anything, but his silence spoke loudly. Daud had half a mind to send him away. 

But that would’ve without a doubt been suspicious to Corvo. 

One by one, the Whalers around him disappeared. First Fergus, then Fisher. Then, when Daud turned his back for a moment to put out his cigarette, the next time he turned around, Thomas was no longer there. 

A sick sort of excitement started churning in his stomach. Would Corvo attempt to take _him_ out like that as well? A knife to his neck without a warning? He’d have to be much more careful than that. 

Daud saw movement in the corner of his eye and swirled around. 

Did Corvo really think he could hide from a seasoned assassin? Daud was disappointed. His hand twitched towards his sword. 

No. He would let Corvo move at his pace. This wasn’t about Daud. 

Nervous energy coursed through his body. He licked his teeth and moved to study the wall with the map of Dunwall on it. Pictures of bounties stared back at him. The picture of the Empress, her gaze heavier than the others’. For a moment, he was sure he heard the creaking of boots behind him. He held his breath. 

Nothing came of it and when he turned around, there was no sign of Corvo. 

Was it just his imagination?

Was Corvo testing him?

He moved to the side, to the window-turned-doorway to the outside. 

There was no sign of his sentries. He craned his neck. Corvo wasn’t there either. 

Was he toying with him? He didn’t strike Daud as the type of a man to do that. Slowly, he returned back to his original spot, determined to just wait for Corvo to make the first move. 

Over time, his tense excitement dulled down to what felt an awful lot like anxiety. He paced back and forth his office, hands sweating behind his back. Teeth grinding together he waited. 

Corvo _had_ to come through here. He _needed_ the key. And he must’ve known it as well. 

Daud’s pacing was gaining a desperate edge and he didn’t like how much he was showing through his movements. He forced his feet to still and leaned his hands against one of the desks. Slowly, he breathed in through his nose, then out through his mouth. 

It was fine. Corvo must’ve been doing rounds to see if there were any more Whalers around. Daud tried not to think him cowardly for it. 

It didn’t matter. Retribution was coming and today was the day Daud would pay for his crimes. 

Corvo was just taking such a long time. 

He leaned back and placed his hands on his hips. 

Only then did he notice, that his pouch was no longer on his belt. 

Daud stood very still for a moment and patted the area around his belt. 

He was sure he’d –

His eyes flew to the key –

That was no longer hanging from the hook. 

His stomach dropped and mouth opened to form a shout that got strangled somewhere along the way and ended up coming out as a quiet gasp. 

He blinked out of his office, down to the floor below. He was rushing, but no Whalers came to see what was happening. He saw two of them propped up against a wall, leaning on each other, knocked out. 

He barely even spared them a glance, blinking down all the way to the sewer level, sword in hand. 

The door to the sewers had been left wide open. 

And Daud was left standing, listening to the quiet dripping of water.

**Author's Note:**

> Jokes on you, Daud. Corvo was doing the “Ghost” playthrough.


End file.
